


Always Darkest Before the Dawn

by Signsofsam



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, BUT I HAVE NO REGRETS, Gen, Lots of Angst, Mentions of Covid, Mentions of Death, all the feels, idek, so maybe pre-ship?, there's some Buddie hinted at
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signsofsam/pseuds/Signsofsam
Summary: Eddie loses his dad on a random Wednesday in July.As always in this uncertain (most hated) time, he’s at work when it happens, and he misses calls (multiple, one right after the other, again and again and again andwhy did he have his phone on silent) from his mom and Abuela and Pepa and his sisters because they’re on a call. He doesn’t get to check his phone for nearly an hour, and when he does, his heart drops. When he finally reaches his mother, she’s sobbing, telling him it’s too late, and his father is gone.He doesn’t get to say goodbye.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, I am so sorry. I just started writing and it happened and I am sorry for making Eddie Diaz sad. It sorta fits my mood right now, though.
> 
> Title is from _Shake it Out_ by Florence + the Machine.

Eddie loses his dad on a random Wednesday in July. 

As always in this uncertain (most hated) time, he’s at work when it happens, and he misses calls (multiple, one right after the other, again and again and again and _why did he have his phone on silent_ ) from his mom and Abuela and Pepa and his sisters because they’re on a call. He doesn’t get to check his phone for nearly an hour, and when he does, his heart drops. When he finally reaches his mother, she’s sobbing, telling him it’s too late, and his father is gone.

_He doesn’t get to say goodbye_.

His dad got COVID, got hospitalized, got vented, and died in less than a month, and he did it while taking all the precautions.

It infuriates Eddie, but staring at his phone, at the dark screen because he’s long-since hung up on his mom, the fury is nothing, because there is nothing--there is no sadness, there is no anger, there is nothing because Eddie can barely breathe and he’s trying to hold himself together.

His father is dead. 

His father is dead.

His father is **_dead_**.

He lets out a shaky breath, jerking away from Bobby as the man tries to comfort him. “I-I need to go shower,” he says, an excuse to get away, hands shaking so bad he nearly drops his phone. He can’t stand the looks of sorrow everyone is giving him--he’s the first of them to lose someone close to COVID--and so he retreats. 

He can’t process what’s happening, and his father is _dead_ , and so he runs from it, from them.

He makes it through the shower because he doesn’t think about anything but the water and getting the sweat and dirt of the day off of him. 

And then it hits him as he’s trying to pull on a fresh LAFD shirt. It starts with a memory of when he was young, sitting on his father’s lap as they drove down their street, Eddie’s small hands on top of his father’s on the steering wheel, slow and steady. A memory of him graduating basic (Shannon is already pregnant, and he needed a plan, and the Army was a plan, right?), and his father’s smile as the man hugged him tight, murmuring, “I’m so proud of you, _mijo_.” The memory from after Eddie’s graduation from probation as a firefighter, pulling Eddie close and making sure he knew that even when they argued, even when they didn’t agree about Eddie’s choices, his father _loved_ him and would always support him. Memories of his dad introducing him as “my son, the firefighter.”

Eddie breaks down in gut-wrenching, heart-breaking sobs, and it’s Buck that wraps him in a tight hug, sitting with him on the dressing room floor as he cries. 

It’s Buck who runs a steady hand through Eddie’s hair.

It’s Buck who whispers, “I’m here for you, Eds” over and over and over again.

It’s Buck who hears his keening, “ _he’s gone_.”

It’s Buck who sits with him as he tells Chris, over a computer screen, his son’s face falling as Eddie tries to explain. When Eddie’s dad first got diagnosed, he and Chris talked about what could happen. When he kept getting worse, when he went on the vent, Eddie _tried_ to make sure they once again talked about how they could lose him. He tried to prepare Chris, just in case, while telling him that Ramon was strong and would fight as hard as he could.

Telling Chris, trying to prepare him? 

There’s nothing to prepare your ten-year-old for losing his grandfather.

And it’s made worse because Eddie can’t be with him, can’t hold him and hug him and tell him they’ll get through it, because they are quarantining apart. Eddie has to watch through a computer screen while Karen hugs Chris tightly and tries to soothe him.

It’s worse than finding out the news about his father.

Buck presses his arm against Eddie’s as they watch Chris break down, holding him up as everything around him crumbles.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie knows he’s worrying Buck. And Bobby. And Hen. And Chim. And Chris, even if he tries his best to put on a mask of normalcy for his son. 
> 
> He’s learning that most times, his best isn’t good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there's a chapter two. And there may be a chapter three, if I get it written, because right now my writer's block is horrible and the last time I was like this I didn't write anything for a decade, so that's wonderful.
> 
> Story title is from _Shake It Off_ from Florence + the Machine.

There isn’t going to be a funeral.

There will be a memorial, some day, when it’s safe to gather again, to be together as a family again, but right now the morgue is full and the funeral homes are full and it just isn’t safe, not for Abuela, or Pepa, or Chris, or a myriad of mourners and Ramon wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to risk themselves just to say goodbye to him. Eddie knows, but still, he feels empty inside knowing he’s not going to see his father one final time before he’s ash in the wind, flying away from them. 

He’s heartbroken thinking about how many months his mother may have to spend staring at his father’s urn alone.

He knows he’s worrying Buck. And Bobby. And Hen. And Chim. And Chris, even if he tries his best to put on a mask of normalcy for his son. 

He’s learning that most times, his best isn’t good enough, because it was already hard being apart, watching Karen do the parental duties for _his_ kid, and piling the grief of his dad’s passing on top of his guilt and sadness seems to make anything close to normal impossible. So Chris notices, frowns at him through the computer screen even though Eddie is smiling, pretending. 

He’s not fooling anyone.

“I think you need to talk to Frank,” Buck whispers one night as he’s crawling into his bed beside Eddie, because there are four people sharing one loft and Hen called the air mattress and Chim the couch, and Eddie turns to glare at him in the darkness.

“Have you been talking to Bobby?” It’s sharper than Eddie intended, but really: he’s already had this discussion with his boss. He doesn’t really need it or want it from his best friend.

“I don’t need to talk to Bobby to know _you_ , Eds,” Buck answers. “And I know you’re hurting, and that you’re trying to act like you’re not, and that you don’t want to talk to me because you don’t want to put that grief on me, but...we all notice, and we just want you to have options to make sure Fight Club doesn’t happen again.” He glances to Eddie, who’s turned away from him, and Buck can make out how tense Eddie’s shoulders are even in the dark. “Chris called me. He said you were trying, but you were sad, and he didn’t want you to be sad. I told him I’d make sure you were okay.”

It’s quiet for a bit, and Buck wonders if he’s pushed too far, because he didn’t mean to, but Eddie twists, and Buck can’t look away. “I have an appointment with him tomorrow. I know I’m not handling _this_ well, either. But...thank you for caring. Thank you for trying. I know I’m not easy to deal with right now, but you’re still here, and I appreciate it.”

Buck smiles, and, for the first time in awhile, Eddie’s smile back is genuine. 

He even laughs when Buck quips, “well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere, considering this is my loft and all.”

For the first time since he got the news about his father, Eddie’s grief isn’t all consuming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all staying safe and wearing your masks! I know we are **ALL** tired of 2021 already, but if we keep being responsible, we may be able to return to normal by this summer (though I am A-okay with keeping the six feet personal bubble).
> 
> Thank you in advance for the comments and kudos, and you can find me [here](https://signsofsam.tumblr.com/) on tumblr where I am trash for 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lone Star, books, and pretty pictures. And y'all, I'm working on the next installment of my I Hate Accidents series, but see previous note about writer's block.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Thank you in advance for the comments and kudos.
> 
> There will be at least one more chapter.
> 
> If you have lost anyone to this god-forsaken pandemic, I am so, so, so very sorry. 
> 
> You can find me [here](https://signsofsam.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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